


Penance

by Zeigarnik



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Abomination is not allowed to be happy, Alcohol, Judgmental bastards, Mild beatings, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeigarnik/pseuds/Zeigarnik
Summary: A villager of The Hamlet blames The Abomination for a missing person. The Flagellant defends him.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this. I didn't edit it, but damn if I didn't write it.

Even in The Hamlet the quiet times were few and far between.

The tavern, and all of it’s seedy connecting rooms, tended to be tad bit too overwhelming for The Abomination to take most days. The very first time he had wandered in after his initial arrival in town, it had felt as though all eyes were on him the moment he walked in. It wasn’t as if he were even the strangest looking person there between all of the travelers and hired mercs that could be found trying to relax and decompress after various harrowing journeys in such a desolate land. He’d managed to convince himself that they weren’t _all_ staring at him like they knew just what kind of a freak he was, and he’d had a few surprisingly decent drinks that night, but in the end he had come to terms with the fact that the tavern just wasn’t the place for him.

The Abomination was truly unwanted in the town center though. He’d pass through from time to time, often seeking news about when he would next be expected to venture out and do the job he was being paid to do, terrible as it may have been. It had taken a while for the townsfolk to learn exactly who he was, and to pass the rumors of what beast lay trapped just beneath the surface around town to one another. The more whispers and muttering The Abomination heard around him though, the more foul looks and sneers he noticed coming his way. He’d learned long ago to keep his head low, look to the ground, and don’t give anyone the chance to do gods knows what to him.

It would have been nice to be able to say it was the tactic that had kept him alive all these years, but he knew well that when it came down to it that it was the very curse that had him shunned that protected him from the most dangerous of the civilized world, in the very most gruesome ways.

No, the town center was not for him, and neither was the Sanitarium, even though he had often figured that he may be able to engage in some interesting conversations there, discussions of science and the alchemical treatments that could aid in curing the ill. He’d ventured in once, out of necessity more than anything else, and the entire experience had left him absolutely shaken with nightmarish flashes of his past coming back to haunt him once more.

Though… it wasn’t an entire loss. His time in the Sanitarium was what had first brought him into the sanctity of the town’s Abbey. Perhaps the only quiet place in town, there were very few who would dare disturb the relative peace that could be found within it’s walls.

And so The Abomination had found himself, once more, at a point in his life when most of his free time was spent hiding away in a church and seeking what refuge he could. He’d only returned to town hours ago, exhausted and still damp from such a dreadful traipse through The Cove. Though his traveling companions had survived the endeavor, the journey had been harrowing and now that they had returned safely all he desired was a night’s rest somewhere dry and indoors. They all needed time to wipe the horrors from their mind, and ease the stress that had been building up for days now, and they all did so in their own ways.

Despite the fact that the Tavern and it’s pleasures tended to be a more popular choice for the resting adventures, the Abbey was never empty, and never completely silent. Vestals and Crusaders alike could be cloistered away muttering quiet prayers to themselves and pouring over verses they had long since learned by heart, and they tended not to look towards The Abomination as he passed, and for this he was quite thankful. He knew them well, and that to them he was nothing but a blight on their church. The few times they did lock eyes though, they had said nothing. The Abomination was silent as he said his own prayers, and though they knew not what he prayed for, he caused no trouble for them and so he was left to his own devices. Today he shuffles past without a word, and they seem to take no notice, their murmuring going disrupted. It’s a surprising comfort, really.

There are a few lingering souls using the Transept, and as The Abomination makes his way towards the frontmost pew, a strong stench of alcohol hits his nose, and as he looks for the source of it he finds a man knelt before one of the grand idols built in the room. There was a mostly empty bottle in one hand, and a damp handkerchief clenched tightly in the other, and the man was more so letting out choked sobs rather than effectively praying.

“Please… _please_ \- by the _gods_ please bring her back to me.” He whispered, but in the quiet of the church it was all to easy to hear just what the man was muttering to himself, and The Abomination felt an uncomfortable chill run down his spine as he took his seat on a pew a short ways away from the man. “The vile monsters of this land have already taken so much from me- from all of us -I… She’s just a little girl! I can’t lose her too!”

There was an uneasy air that settled in the room over everyone who was attempting to seek answers through prayer, and as hard as The Abomination tried, he simply couldn’t tune the troubling words of The Villager out. He bit the inside of his cheek and stared down at the floor before him as he listened to The Villager snivel and cry, muffled only by his hand and the handkerchief he had pressed against his face. He thumped the bottle in his hand against the ground, and for a moment The Abomination was worried that it might just crack and shatter, spill what little of the bitter drink was left. Instead The Villager used it to push himself back and up, dragging his hand down his tear-stained face. He swayed where he stood, rubbing at his eyes before he let out a heavy sight and turned to leave, only to stop short when he saw The Abomination sitting only a few strides away.

“You...” The Villager muttered, the tail end of a growl lacing his words as he took a half step forward. Then, without another word he reeled the bottle that had been hanging loosely in his grasp back, and he hurled it at The Abomination.

Thankfully The Abomination wasn’t drunk, and with wide eyes he quickly jumped out of the way before the bottle could smash again him. It shattered against the back of the pew he had been sitting at only a moment before, and just like that all eyes were drawn to him at the sound of shattering glass. Everyone else in the room watched, The Vestal, The Crusader, and the few others who had wandered in seeking refuge. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, and The Abomination took a shaky breath as he held his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“Please, I’m sorry, I-” The Abomination said, unsure of what exactly he was apologizing for, but there was a look of rage on the man’s face that he hadn’t often seen in anyone, and The Abomination could only hope that his only weapon had just been broken over the back of his seat.

“Smithy said he saw a monster done took her….” The Villager slurred, gritting his teeth as he balled his fists once more, and he shuffled closer to The Abomination. The look in his eyes… The Abomination had seen this look before. He’d seen it in the eyes of his traveling companions as their minds broke under the stress as they delved deeper and deeper into each hellish crevice this land had to offer. The look of a man who had no desire but to hurt, to break others down until they felt the same pain he had. “Never seen a monster dare rear it’s ugly head here in town though. Aside from one that is...”

It didn’t take a terribly smart man to figure out exactly what was meant by that, and for an instant there was a chilling cold that ran through The Abomination’s veins. The monster’s blood, poison…

“I am not a monster...” The Abomination said, his voice strong and sure. He’d said this a thousand times to a thousand different people. “I’ve hurt no one here, and I’ve no desire to do so. I’m so sorry for your loss, but your anger is not with me it’s with whatever beast out there has taken your child...”

“They drag all of these… these _mercenaries_ , they bring them in to protect us, and what happens? They let the damned monster in too! Tell us it’s gonna keep us safe, all’s gonna happen is we’re gonna get our throats slit in our broken homes after everything good’s been taken from us.” The Villager rambled, and as he stumbled forward, he took a wide, almost flailing swing, and The Abomination raised his hand to grab The Villager’s wrist, pushing against him to try and shove him back. By the gods he was exhausted, fatigue long since having taken hold of every limb, of every muscle that was keeping him upright, and he could _feel_ his strength failing him. As the two of them struggled, The Villager pushed down against The Abomination, and with a grunt The Abomination was felled, dropping to a knee and holding his arms above himself to shield himself from whatever blows would surely come his way.

The chill that had run through his veins shifted, growing hotter and hotter with fear and rage at such mistreatment. He felt as though he were being ripped apart from the inside out, something dangerously close to breaking free as he simply held his arms above his head to shield himself as a heavy handed fist rained down strike after strike on him, and he knew his forearms would be covered in bruises the next day, if he survived the night that is. Unhindered attacks like this always had a terrible risk of being taken well beyond the attacker’s original intent…

Pain bloomed, his defense wavered, and shame flooded him because he knew that the Vestal and Crusader would simply stand by and continue to watch, let him take this beating for simply being who he was. For a brief moment he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if- _when_ -the beast within him truly came out. Would their fragile tolerance of him shatter? Would they too take the chance to try and cast him out once and for all?

Just as quickly as it all went down though, the blows ceased and with a grunt The Villager was yanked back and away from The Abomination, and with just a bit of hesitance The Abomination lifted his gaze to see what had halted such a furious assault.

“The penance hall is downstairs.”

The Flagellant. A man dressed in rag that still managed to hold such a strange, commanding air about himself. Perhaps it was the acrid smell of blood that seemed to hang off of him at all times. Perhaps it was the light tint of it that stained his clothes, his skin. Maybe it was the loud, heavy thud of his flail hitting the ground as he let it hang loosely in his free hand, his other wrapped painfully tight around the man he’d found beating his fellow mercenary. Silence fell over the transept save for a few quiet gasps and the sound of shuffling feet as the others backed away, and The Abomination found himself at the feet of both The Flagellant and his attacker, looking between them with wild, almost glowing eyes.

“A man… who would protect a monster is no better than the monster himself...” The Villager slurred, quickly yanking his wrist away from The Flagellant, and he did so with ease to the point that he almost stumbled back as he did so. “Holy man such as yourself ought to know better..”

“And a man who seeks salvation and guidance such as yourself ought to know better than to come in here starting trouble.” The Flagellant said, his voice low, the barest hint of a growl tainting his words as he stepped closer to The Villager, effectively placing himself between him and The Abomination. “The Transept is a place of peace and solace, and yet here you stand attempting to dole out punishment that is not yours to give.”

The emotions that flashed across The Villager’s face could only be described as nothing short of volatile. Drunken rage mixed with absolute despair, with shame and desperation and confusion that such a prominent member of the church would stand against him and guard such a terrible beast. “Neither is it your place to stop me!” He bellowed, stumbling forward towards The Flagellant until their chests bumped and they were nearly face to face. He raised his hands and gripped the tattered remains of what had once been a cloak tightly, yanking him closer until their faces were mere inches apart. “A man who protects monsters deserves _nothing_ , perhaps only to be beaten in their place...”

There was a grin that spread across The Flagellant’s face in that moment, twisted crooked and long since broken, and behind him The Abomination could only watch in a mix of awe and terror as his protector dropped his only weapon and raised his arms instead. He would Shield The Abomination from harm, and welcome it home.

“For him? I would take all you could give without hesitation, my friend.” The Flagellant said.

“No,” The Abomination finally called out, his voice hoarse and cracking. “Please stop, just leave us be...” He said, before The Flagellant held his hand up to silence him. He could only watch, and his pleas would fall on deaf ears once more, just as they always had.

It truly did look as though The Villager wished to spew more vile words at the two of them, curse them for their stance and demand that The Flagellant stand down and let things be as they were, but there was a flash of concern in his eyes as he took in the sight of The Flagellant so ready and _willing_ to suffer at the hands of a stranger for someone who the Abbey had at one point shunned entirely. The Flagellant, a beast in his own right, thrived in this hesitation.

“I’ve stood by this man in the darkest pits that the land has to offer, where the truly most vile beasts lie in wait. There are horrors down below that make men far stronger than yourself break into nothing more than empty shells of who they once were, who feast on the bones of those who fall at their hands and haunt the dreams of those who manage to escape and live another day. He’s a man who has traveled where even the light can no longer help you, and all that we have left is _blood_ tying you to this world, and though I may not care for his tainted blood and damned soul, we’ve fought side by side and truly lived. I know for a fact that you are _wrong_ my friend.”

And The Flagellant reached forward with surprising speed, grabbing the front of The Villager’s shirt and bringing him all the closer, knocking their heads together in an aggressive way.

“He is but a horrid abomination in this transept, but I have learned in my time that simply because one is a monster does not mean that one is not innocent.” The Flagellant snarled, his upper lip twitching back to show missing teeth. “And so I say once more, if you so feel the need to lash out, turn your violence on me. His suffering shall be mine and it will be _divine_!”

There is a moment of tense silence that falls over the Abbey halls, punctuated only by heavy breaths coming from The Flagellant himself as he stares down The Villager who had dared to disturb the sanctity of this holy place he so often sought his own salvation in. His grip on the man’s shirt slowly eases before The Villager is let go entirely with a small shove, sending him stumbling backwards until he could right himself proper. There was fear in his eyes, perhaps of the possible retaliation that might await him if he so much as tried to face The Flagellant again, or simply of what a man as unhinged and entirely devoted to such an extreme ideal could do to him with little to no provocation. He looked like a wounded animal, hunkered down like he expected a beating of his own. Instead, The Flagellant simply turned and pointed back towards the entrance of the Abbey, and barked a single order that had The Villager scrambling away as fast as his feet could carry him in his state.

“ _Leave!_ ”

The man left with the sound of heavy footsteps echoing behind him, growing more and more distance until the slam of a heavy wooden door could be heard, and all at once it was like a collective exhale had been released. The Vestal and The Crusader slowly made their way forwards once more, back to their seats in complete silence and perhaps shock, but The Abomination paid them no mind. His head was swimming and he could still feel his heart pounding in his chest, but the burn of toxic blood had begun to die down and it no longer felt as though he were about to be completely overtaken by a force well outside his control.

The pain in The Abomination’s arms began to flare up though, and he sat back for a moment to push his shackles up just a bit further and rub over the abused skin. His eyes were locked on The Flagellant as he turned back towards him, bending down to pick his flail up from off the floor, and he cleared his throat to get rid of the shakes as he pushed himself up onto his knees. The Abomination may not have ever expected The Flagellant of all people to be his one and only protector, but by the gods was he grateful. “You didn’t have to-...” He said, only for The Flagellant to cut him off before he could even begin to thank him for coming to his aid when nobody else would have.

“On your feet now, Abomination. I know you’ve done nothing to hurt the people of this town, but despite what I said, you and I both know you’re are far from innocent. You seek salvation from a curse brought on by your own hubris, yes? You do not belong up here with the truly holy folk. You belong down below, taking absolution by your own hand rather than waiting for prayers to be answered.” He said, stepping around The Abomination without a care to head back towards the stairs near the upper left corner of the Transept that lead down to the Penance hall. The heavy ends of his flail scraped across the ground as he went, making a truly wretched sound that sent chills down The Abomination’s spine.

“Follow me, and pay your toll in blood…”


End file.
